Splinters of the Rift

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“Move, Vivian!”
I did. My body obeyed the years of training before my mind could decide. The dagger in my hand slashed at the second attacker’s arm, the leather jerkin no match for my aim. He staggered, but he did not cry out. None of them did. Silent. Relentless. Shadows given flesh.
Every breath was a fire of smoke and something worse—doubt. Every figure that pressed in bore the weight of his whisper. Don’t fight them. Trust me.
“Vivian!” Wren’s voice cut through the haze. “With me!”.....
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